


maybe sprout wings

by Impalallama



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alex has a nightmare about his dead teammates on the jet and it's Not Fun, Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Survivor Guilt, Team as Family, i think??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23979223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalallama/pseuds/Impalallama
Summary: He's still trapped in his seat and breathing like he'd just run a marathon when he realizes what's different. The conversations have stopped and Mac and Jack are looking at him now, their faces drawn into angry scowls. A quick glance over at Riley and Bozer reveals the same irate expressions. The jet shakes and the lights go out once again, plunging Alex into total darkness.---Nightmares and things that need to be said.
Relationships: Wilt Bozer & Jack Dalton & Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	maybe sprout wings

**Author's Note:**

> A friend and I talked about some OC things last night and the nightmare scenario we discussed just stayed with me so I had to do something about it. 
> 
> A bit of context: Alex lost his entire team on a mission that went horribly wrong in Yemen. A little while after that he ends up being put onto Mac's team. He is absolutely terrified of losing his new teammates. 
> 
> Shoutout to my buds Gav and Canth for helpin me out with some sweet dialogue on this one. If anyone has any questions you can find me @ lord-owlsnake on tumblr!

I thought of old friends, the one's who'd gone missing 

Said all their names three times 

Phantoms in the early dark 

Canaries in the mines 

-Maybe Sprout Wings, The Mountain Goats 

\-------------

Everything had gone smoothly, for once. Intel retrieved in record time with only a handful of bruises to show for the effort. They're all safe, mission complete, and settling in on the jet for the long, 14 hour flight back to L.A. 

The last several missions had been, thankfully, uneventful for the most part. Simple intel and personnel retrievals, testing out security systems for budding corporations, minor things like that. Easy things. Jack has been half joking about wishing for something a bit higher on the adrenaline scale while they all groan and tell him not to jinx it. To enjoy this while it lasts. 

Alex isn't superstitious. At least, not to the extent his mom is. Ghosts and ghouls and curses were all interesting to him in a way that made for a good read, but all the stories she'd told him as a kid were just that: stories. Nothing real or tangible that could ever hurt him. If anything, he took them in as lessons. 

Unfortunately, the anxiety sitting and growing in his gut after every mission _is_ real. His legs bounce and fingers tap against the armrest as the tension grows. The others ask him if he's doing OK, and he always plasters a smile on his face and tells them that he's just thinking. That he's thinking and _not_ worrying about the fact that having so many things go right means that, inevitably, _something_ is going to go wrong. 

He knows it's stupid, but he can't help it. They're his new team and all he can think about is when the shit's going to hit the fan. 

There's no use to focusing on that now. They're on the jet and heading home and everyone else is relaxed chatting with themselves. Riley and Bozer in the section behind him, laughing about something that Alex missed while lost in thought, laying on the jet's bench seat with his arms crossed over his chest. Across from him in the two seats, facing each other, Mac and Jack are also conversing. Something about Star Wars and Bruce Willis, movies that he's never seen before and, honestly? Isn't all that interested in. 

But the chatter and steady hum of the jet, paired with the warm sunlight leaking in through the windows is enough to lull him into a doze. Alex doesn't think he has it in him to fall asleep, but closing his eyes for a bit doesn't seem like a bad idea. Twenty minutes, he tells himself. That's enough time to recharge. 

Twenty minutes. 

It only feels like five when Alex jolts awake, lurching upward with a gasp. There's no way five minutes were enough for any sort of dream, good or bad, but the dread burrowing itself in his chest is real. He just can't explain why it's _there._

Alex looks around quickly, hoping he didn't disturb anyone. Expecting everyone to be looking at him, he's relieved and a touch surprised when it seems no one is giving him the time of day. Bozer and Riley are still sitting in their section going through their phones and sharing whatever they've managed to find that's so funny. Neither Mac or Jack bat an eye in his direction when he sits up, even though he's literally right next to them. 

Alex frowns. _Strange._ In such a small space he knows he should have disturbed someone. And yet... 

A loud bang followed by sudden turbulence knocks Alex sideways on the couch. He yelps, manages to catch himself on one arm. The lights in the cabin flicker ominously and he whips his head around up to look out the window that sits across from him, between Mac and Jack. Who are still talking like nothing had happened. Alex's eyes widen. 

There's fire on the wing outside and they don't notice. The opened water bottle in the cup holder between Mac and Jack had been knocked out, water pooling on the floor between them, and still they're talking about football. 

Alex turns in his seat. Riley and Bozer are still talking. Riley's rig has fallen from it's perch, the screen cracked, static buzzing on the display. 

_What the hell?_

The smell of smoke starts to drift into the cabin, and Alex begins to panic. 

“ _Jack?”_ His voice comes out hoarse and crackling. Dry, as if he's swallowed all the dust and sand in the desert. It barely comes out as a whisper, and Alex coughs. Jack doesn't hear him. 

Still coughing, Alex tries to stand. He makes it about an inch off the seat before some invisible force yanks him right back down and makes it impossible to move. His entire body feels like it weighs a ton, even rolling his eyes in their sockets is a task. 

More turbulence. Another low boom. Black smoke runs its inky fingers across the ceiling, reaching its way through the cabin. The temperature in the jet rises and Alex _can't move._ He's pretty sure he's hyperventilating now, each breath feeling like glass in his lungs. Something catches his eye near the back of the jet and with monumental effort he manages to roll his head on his shoulders to better see in that direction. 

He wishes he hadn't. _Fucking hell_ he wishes he hadn't. 

“Hey there, Hacker Man.” The voice is gravelly and warped from misuse, but he'd recognize it anywhere. Coupled with the short hair and stature, there's no mistaking who's standing at the end of the aisle. 

Alex manages to choke out her name past the sand in his throat, “K-Kacey.” 

“You _do_ still know who I am.” She makes her way towards him. He doesn't miss the way her limbs move stiffly, like they're in need of oiling. There's a crackling sound as she moves, sand sprinkling off of her and onto the floor of the aisle. Alex swallows passed the lump in his throat just as the lights go out. Kacey's form disappears with them and it's quiet. Alex's heart rate spikes. In the dim, he can see Mac and Jack's mouths moving but no sound escapes them, like he's watching a silent film and somebody forgot to add the subtitles. He still can't see Kacey. 

The lights flicker back on and suddenly she's there, sitting on the floor between Mac and Jack's feet against the wall. They make no indication that they even realize she's there. But Alex can see her. 

His brows pull together in shock. She looks like a corpse. 

Her jaw is uneven, broken. The smile that splits across her bloodless, cracked lips is crooked and doesn't reach her eyes. Her gaze is piercing, the right eye colored bright red from a broken blood vessel, and her clothes are torn and burned. 

The smell of blood and rotting flesh reaches his nostrils and Alex gags. 

“Gross, huh? Thought maybe you'd forgotten about little old me.” There's an audible crack as her jaw moves. Alex recoils as if he's been shot. Kacey reaches out and grabs the discarded water bottle with broken fingers and fidgets with it. 

“It's fine though,” she rasps, then looks up at Mac and Jack, disdain painting her face a dark color, “you get to sit at the cool kids table now, right?” 

“ _No, I-”_ He starts to say, but is cut off by another bout of deep coughing. Sand spews from his lips. 

Kacey frowns, “Got yourself an entirely new set of people, huh? Just like that? Who cares about the ones you left behind. _Do you even think about us?_ ” 

She's wrong. The thing sitting in front of him wearing Kacey's face is so _wrong_ that Alex wants to scream, but it's getting harder to breathe. More smoke wafts into the cabin, choking him. There's no way he could just up and forget about her, about _them._ He sees their faces every night when he goes to sleep, whenever he looks at Mac or Jack or Bozer or Riley, he sees _them._ His team. The ones he couldn't save. 

Movement from the opposite end of the jet catches his attention. In the chair next to the exit sits Lanie, clipboard in her hand and looking every bit like her autopsy photos before they'd cleaned her up. Her bloodshot eyes pierce into him, accusing, angry. 

“This isn't going to last, you know.” 

It's not Lanie who says this. Alex jumps in fright as a large figure appears on the couch next to him. Ashley had always been an imposing figure. Threatening without ever meaning to be. The Ashley next to him now, though, radiates a threat. A coiled spring ready to loose and attack. From the day he'd met Ash, Alex had never had reason to be scared of the man. Intimidated? Yes, but never scared. 

The pure hatred wafting off the man beside him has his hair standing on end, and he wants nothing more than to break away from the force holding him and run. The worst part of it is that Ashley won't even look at him, his gaze is focused on Mac. 

“Traded us in, huh? We last year's models?” He hisses. The air in the room grows hotter. Kacey's face twists into a snarl. 

Ash's words cut deep and Alex forces out a strained “No.” He wrestles with himself, needing to get away. The sand fills his lungs and he can't breathe. 

Kacey surges forward and her face is suddenly so close to his, he can smell her rotting breath, “What's the matter, Alex? Cat got your tongue?” The horrible crack of her jaw grates his ears. He stares wide eyed at her, gasping for breath as blood seeps through her teeth and drips onto his shirt. 

“What are you going to do when this one crashes and burns?” Alex blinks and Lanie is standing to his left. Blood pours from a wound in her hairline and her glasses are shattered and askew, “Do you have another set waiting in the wings somewhere?” 

Alex sucks in several wheezing breaths. He doesn't know what he's going to do when this new team inevitably gets ripped away from him. It's what's been haunting his dreams for the past several weeks, waking him up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and the taste of bile on his tongue. He's tried to reason with himself, you know, like any rational person would. Curses don't exist. Luck isn't a thing that runs out. 

But it's there in the back of his mind every time they step onto the damned jet. 

His old team is closing in on him now, their teeth bared like a pack of wolves ready to tear into their prey. Alex squeezes his eyes shut and pleads, waiting for them to rip into him. The air is thick with smoke now, dripping into his lungs and cutting him up from the inside. He can hear the roar of flames somewhere in the distance. 

“ _You couldn't save us and you can't save them.”_

When he opens his eyes next his teammates are gone. Alex's eyes rove over the cabin, frantically searching for any sign of them. The condition of the interior is the same, smoke and dust cloud the air, the temperature still feeling like he's caught in the middle of a forest fire. But the ghosts are gone. 

He's still trapped in his seat and breathing like he'd just run a marathon when he realizes what's different. The conversations have stopped and Mac and Jack are looking at him now, their faces drawn into angry scowls. A quick glance over at Riley and Bozer reveals the same irate expressions. The jet shakes and the lights go out once again, plunging Alex into total darkness. He cries out. 

When the lights come back on, Alex is no longer in the Phoenix jet. He's standing under a spotlight, and whatever is beyond it is too dark for him to see. His hands feel wet, and when he brings them up to look at, they're covered in red. 

“No... no, please...” 

The light goes out. 

A switch being flipped echoes in the distance. The light returns. 

There are corpses at his feet. Blood squelches under his shoes. The faces of Riley, Mac, Jack and Bozer stare up at him. 

“No, this... I didn't... I...” Alex's hands tremble. He can't tear his gaze away from the lifeless faces in front of him. 

A choked sound comes from one of the bodies on the floor. Riley. Her neck cracks sickeningly as it turns to him, her words choked out by the amount of blood pouring from her mouth. 

Mac's body is near her, his head resting on her stomach. His blond hair is colored with rust, and a corner of his mouth is torn away. Alex can see his teeth. Mac's gaze bores into him and leaves him cold. 

“Are you going to leave us behind too?” 

The way Mac asks seems sad. Almost as if he'd expected this to happen. Like it's happened before. 

Alex swallows once, wanting to say something, but Mac's body shudders and goes still before he can and he panics. 

“No no no nono...” Alex kneels in the blood, jeans soaking up the liquid like a sponge. His hands hover over Mac, unsure of what to do and where he should touch, “come on, please...” 

A hand clamps down on Alex's wrist, hard. He slips in the gore, falling back onto the seat of his pants with a yelp. The hand around his wrist is crushing, grating bones together and threatening to break. Alex sees the leather cuff and follows it up the arm and whimpers when he sees who has him. 

Jack's face is twisted into the angriest expression Alex has ever seen on the man. It's amplified tenfold by the fact that his left eye is missing, a gaping crater left where it should be. This is the kind of anger he sees directed at the bad guys, when they threaten Jack's kids. 

When Jack is ready to shoot to kill. 

“ _You did this.”_ Jack says, spitting blood into Alex's face.” 

“No, I swear, I never wanted this,” Alex sputters, “I didn't want this to happen, I...” 

The older man snarls, grip squeezing on his wrist so hard there's a crack. Alex gasps and tries to pull away but Jack has him in a death grip. 

“Jack please, I-” 

“ _Look what taking you in cost me.”_

Alex screams and everything falls away. 


End file.
